The news and herald. (Winnsboro, S.C.) 1877-1900, August 07, 1879, Image 1
TRIl-WEEKLY EDITION. WINNSBORO, S. C., AUGUST 7, 1879 VOL.
WHEN THE BABY G0E8 TO SLEEP.
The mother sits rocking to and fro,
Sweetly singing so soft and low,
While onward the minutes creep;
Those precious minutes 'tis hard to lose,
'0 when will the little eyelids close
And the baby go to sleep ?
There's dinner to plan and pies to make,
And a loaf of gingerbread to bake,
And then the parlor to sweep ;
The heels of papa's stockings to run,
And tMis is not half that should be done
When the baby goes to sleep.
Heavier pressesthe little head,
The eyelashes droop o'er cheeks so red,
And the brea'h grows soft and deep;
Carefully lay down the darling now,
With the touch of a kiss on th' waxon brow,
For the baby has gone to sleep.
0, mother, should she wake before
You have accomplished every chore,
Grieve not though you fail to keep
Your house well ordered, th' work well done;
'Tis better thus than a faultless home
Where the baby Is over asleep.
Granny Carrigan's Cap-box.
My wife's cousin was a slender, ok(-fash
ioned-looking girl, with quiet, retiring man
ners, and a habit of gliding about with al
most noiseless movements. I used to call
her the little grey ghost.
It seemed to me, when my wife first
broached the subject, a Quixotic notion to
take the girl home with us; but Nellie's
heart is so large and loving I
"Just think of the poor child alone in
that wilderness" she said, with pitying
eyes: "and we have plenty and to spare."
"So has Aunt Clieney.".
"Yes, but she lives in the backwoods, as
solitary a place as can be found. The poor
child has had no mother for years, her fa
ther has been an Invalid ever since alhe was
ten years old, and now he Is gone, it does
seem hard she should be condemned to sol
itude and old Aunt Cheney. At least let us
invite her to come for a season. Let us
give her a moment of pleasure poor child I
She will be so delighted, so astonished with
this bewildering New York."
1 consented, of course, as good husbands
are in duty bound to do, and on a certain
)ctober afternoon, drove to the station for
my wife's cousin. I kr.ow her the moment
she made her appearance, though' I had
never seen her before. The little creature
appealed to my sympathy at once by her
Indescribably forlord appearance. So small
so white, so timid I her lustrous gray eyes,
her only beauty, roving around startled to
unwonted lustre.
"Is this Susie Myriam?" I asked.
"Yes; I was beginning to feel a little
frightened at the confusion," said she;a
"you are Cousin Nellie's-husband."
I led her away from the crowd, and she
was silent and strange the whole way home
utterly preoccupied with the sights to be
seen at all hours in our great metropolis.
From that time Sussie was one of us-I
mean in all that pertains to the manners and
customs of.the household; and yet I could
never feel any nearer degree of friendship
than that with which I welcomed her the
first day to our pleasant home.
"She is so handy," said my wife. "You
don't know how many little things she does
and yet I can't prevail upon her to take a
single present from me."
"She don't care for little vanities," I said.
"Don't she I she's as fond of nice things
aK anybody, I've found that out; but she
has an absurd notion that unless shlo earns
costly jewels, she won't wear them; won't
dependent even on me for the most trifling
ornaments. She admired the old-fashioned
pearl brooch that you always liked so well,
and I offered it to her. No, insist as I
inight I could not prevail on her to accept
it. have tried agin and again to tempt
,her, for really, I have so many useless
things that I don't wear at all, but its no
manner of use. She's the most obstinate
little creature I ever saw."
Time passed, and I became accustomed
to the slight gray figure sitting beside my
wife or fitting about like a contented ghost.
Wife had found a companion for her soli
tary hours, and I was glad. Together they
haunted the picture galleries, the art saloons'
together they shopped, drove in, the paruk,
or lunched.
"Whom do you think we met to-day?9"
.my wiff asked me one evening, when we
were aflne together. "Of all mn in the
world, Harry Lonsdale, whom 1 haven't
seen since he returned from Europe, and
he has a picture at Lozier's that everybody
is going wild over. It is a beautiful thing
-you know I never could talk art-jargon,
but it satisfied me as pictui'es seldom do.
When I saw him, ho seemed quito as much
absorbed in studying Susie as she was in
st~udying his picture. You don't know how
pretty she looked. You needn't smile,
John, for her eyes would redeem any face.
Suddenly Harry saw me, and came up
straight to whore we stood. I toldl him how
glad I was to know he was getting famous,
but lhe only nodded, and said eagerly :
"That young lady seems to be rather in
terested-I amn flattered."
"Yes, that's my cousin Susie," I replhed.
"Y our cousin I pray introduce me,"' andl
-,John as sure as yulvta ilb
match.yulvta ilb
" Nonsense," was my rejoinder.
knew Harry Loriedale, and Susie was, not
b~y any means his ideal. Harry liked dash
ing, handsome girls; vivacious, magnetic;:
girls of the Tresyhian style, with oval faces
languishing eyes and haughty lips. He had
sketched such to me by the hour, and I
knew some of the young ladies with whom
lhe seemed to be on very friendly terms.
T[he idea of his fancying this col, gray lit
tle creature, .with no figure to boast of, and
a manner so sedate and quiet that she -was
seldom noticed at all, was preposterous.
"It flattered him to see her absorbed by
his picturo," I Sid'- "only praise him and
I am no~t sure thai ?ieehsebub himself might
not hold bi in the chains of eternal friend
ship. HarLo ale is the vaintet man I
eesafor M ip n g regly is~ a groat
"Wiell, w6'lfsee," said my wife, with
that etnfideVit little riod Ofhers. "It will
if oly )v teca~e te, oa
'1 told yous.
To my greaf rratoril c
at the house three e'vebingeA bt of the wep k
after that, Ai4under the intlo fh
prsnce t h| ~ttle gr~e~~
ticipations, and began to watch Harry. e I
did seem exactly like an impassioned lover. I
About this time my wife said to me that 1
Susie was receiving letters from some far off
friend.
"I notice when they come; sometimes I I
hand them to her, but she never mentions
them again. Shouldn't you think she would<
speak about them ?" asked my wife. I
Susie's movements were now of importance
in my eyes. How had that plain little girl I
contrived to captivate handsome, popular i
Harry Lonsdale, the most exacting fellow i
in his relations with women I ever knew? t
Tie thing certainly was done.
Susie came out in a new character. Her F
gray dresses were brightened with exqui- f
site bits of color. She apoke to my wife of f
needing new dresses, and to Nellie's aston- I
ishment bought herself several. Then came
ornaments, few, but choice and costly. I
"Where do you suppose she gets the I
money? asked Nellie.
"How do we know but. sie may be rich t
and eccentric?" was my response. "You i
pitiedi her and thought her a poor lon6 girl, <
but her father may have possessed property i
to a large amount for all we can tell."
Nellie shook her wise head. I
"I don't believe lie loft a cent; indeed, j
what at I saying ? it is a matter of certain- I
ty that lie did not, for Susie told me so her- E
self. Besides, she would have got fine t
things fast enough, scores ot tines. I've I
seen the look in her eye when I've been I
shopping at Stewart's, suggestive of emlpti
ness of pocket and anguish of spirit-for i
you see now what lovely taste she has.
But I wish she wasn't such a secret thing, t
that's what torments ie ; I do like to be a
confided in."
What f6ilowed made that conversation
memorable. Some months previous I had E
received the sun of$3,000 for a small piece
of land. This money, or a part of it, I had I
occasion to use. I went tip to the closet in
my roomIm, one side of which served as a safe. I
To my utter astonishment the money was
not there. I searched the closet through, r
and then called my wife for a consultation.
Together we looked in every available t
place, cleared the shelves of the library, 1:
searched through all the closets, bureaus, C
boxes, trunks and nooks that the house af- I
forded; but in vain, the money was gone;
no sign of batik bills anywhere.
"Where could you have put them?" asked I
my wife. tired and discouraged. t
"I put them in that closet; my key has N
been up in that little box onl the end of the t
mantelpiece; I have neyer been to the closet f
since I left the money there, but some one f
else has, it seems."
"None of the servants but old Iester t
ever comes into this room," mturnmired Nel- c
lie, and I would stake my life on her hlion
esty."
"Of course, so would I." t
"Three thousand dollars; why, John, 11
that's a large sum to lose." a
"bLarge or small, it's gone." 1<
"Biut where ?" my wife queried, per
plexed and anxious. "Who could have c
known it ivas there? People will do such %
miserable strange things sometimes." t
"Yes, I nave spoKen ot naving that
amount by me, two or three times, but no F
one was present but you and Susie. It was v
an abominable careless thing to do, leaving b3
it lying loose instead of putting it in the t
bank, as I should. Day after day we look- e
ed for the money, speaking of the suspicions
to no one, until finally we gave it tip for t
lost. A week after this, Nellie came to my I
room with a pale face.
"It's so strange," ste murmured, "and I
hate to have such thoughts ; but John, I
where could Susie have got that splendid c
solitaire?" site whispered.
What solitaire," I asked. V
"You have not seen it?" she wore it to
day for the first time."
"I suppose shte's engaged-Harry gave it 8
to her," I suggested.
"But Harry didu't give it to her. I asked
her and site said nto." .
"The deuce I" was all I could say. r
"And John, it really looks alarming, thme
number of costly things site has been buy ing
of late. Thirty dollars for a parasol, only
think I and mine doit't cost twenty ; a box v~
of daintiest gloves; everything by thme a
dozen."
We looked at eacht othter in silence.
"About thme richest black silk you ever v
saw-better than mine. The material must
have cost a hundred dollars ; what will it v~
come to whten it is made tip ?" i
"What can it all mean ?'' I queried. d
"Don't ask me; I'm heart-sick at thme' fl
thotught of it. It's miserable btisiness, can I
it be possib~le ?-but no, I wvon't say it. t1
Certain it is that she has some business rela-. 3
tions with seime one in the city. Half the d
etters site gets are net Iharry's." s
"I wonider if the fellowv loves her ?"
"Loves her, lhe worships her." a
"And he will make her his wife ?" r
"Of couirse heo will."
"'What is our dtuty it that case, do you e
ttik, Nellie ?" -hk
"For heaven's sake say nothing abotut it,
John. Remember, shte is my outsiin, amnd l'
it isn't as if we were poor. I'd rather lose i)
five thousand than to have any trouble of p
that kind." d
"it s terribly unpleasant," said I.
""Of course it is--horrible. And shte's so
happy, so thoroughly happy that it would n
be a pleasture to look at her If one didn't Il
think, didn't dread--lh John, John I" and am
poor Nellie htid her face in her hands.
.4.nd still the purchases continued. Nel
lie and I sidd nothing--never asked a qutes
tion, now, b~ut we were all thme time watch- I1
ing, miserable and unhappy.
Susie must have noticed the change in us a
buit shte was so preoccupied witht her love 11
that site probably attributed it to some other
cause. . - a
Harry was noW a constant visitoi . He
came to my office one day, and with an at
most radiant face, told me of -his love for i
my wife's cousin. I hope you do not ob
ject," hte -added, wheni I ha'd. hteail hIm
through.
"Why should 19" I asked. "Site's only j
Nellie's cousin."
'"Hang it. man, you're cool enough abodt f
it, anyway,".hie said "Can't yotu get up I
a little enthusiasm wjten a fellow is halt be
side himself with happiness?9 Youdn'
want her' to go, eh 9"
"I am qiuite wfllhg,h I answered, "bt
I confess there's no sacouanting .for' tatsf,. e
She is verf* fat' from th6 .leflson I ,fanblad
would be. the che ce of my fatdousirlendcl r
Hlarry Yonsdaie.
hyou ar'e thinking of our old ,d~sm4
e-btlet me tell yog she isipr~ty
'Het eye
iear you own up to something. I'll be blest
f I shouldn't think, were you a single man,
rou were in love with her yourself."
My answer quite satisfied him: "If I
vere single, and she the only woman in
Ie *orld, I wouldn't marry her."
"Whew I well, that's what I call a trifle
ecided," he said, and went off out of ten
>er.
Several weeks passed. Susie had noti -
led my wife of her engagement. She could
tot but be aware of the constraint in our
tiannor. Nellie and I had frequent talks
ogether over the matter, in which we coin
tiented upoa the straige good that had
cemingly overtaken Miss Susie. The die
ppearance of my $3000, and her sudden
,ecession of costly dresses and jewelry, did
ook, to.say the least, suspicious.
One day, on my return home, my wife
uformied m1e that Susie was intending to
eave us.
"She camte to me this morning," con
Inned Nellie, "and told me that Aunt Vhe..
icy had written saying that she had a great
leal to do, she thought it better to have the
vedding outfit made there. I said to her,
we thought you would be married from
tere, Susie.' She looked strange for a mo
lent, for she must have seen how little
eart there was in my words. Then she
ad Aunt Cheney expected the ceremony
i) take place there ; had, in fact, been mak
ig great preparations. Besides, she quite
vanted to see aanty'F withered old face
nd there she choked. She Is going to
iorrow night, and is packing now."
I would have given the wori to be able
s say I wias sorry, but the truth is, her pre
once had become hateful to me; I wanted
or to be gone.
We were very polite to the last. I saw
usie off in company with my wife. Harry
rent with her, the happiest man1 I ever
Mw
It was a relief to behold her vacant chair
or place at the table, to miiss h1er gliding
ioveients, and feel that we couid talk and
o as we pleased, with no spy or eavesdrop
er in the way. Nellie missed her for a
111e, and often talked and wondered about
er. Sile answered her first letter, and do
lined to attend her wedding, but the second
Atter remained unanswered.
Not a great while after that, Harry took
house in the city for his bride, and I saw
uin occasionally. Towards his wife I en
ortained a feeling of strong aversion. It
wias sie who had broken up the dear old in
Imacy, for Harry and I had been famous
riends, and now 11e never called at the of
ce.
We often heard of Mrs. Lonsdale's recep
lons, her dinners, her perfect taste, hrLr fas
iuating manners, but we never called.
It was iate in the following season before
re prepared to take our annual flitting into
lie country. I had sent most of the house
old goods, which always accompanica us,
ud gathered enough together for the final
)ad. Nellie came ip to inspect them.
"Where in the world did you find that
Id cap-box?" she asked, laughing, "and
rhy have you installed it on the top of all
lie other packages?"
"Don't you know the box, Nellie?" I re
lied; "it was grandmother Carrigan's, the.
cry one in which she used to put her old
lacs cap. Why, I can see her face In it
A11s moment, and-what upon earth I" L
xclaimed, cutting short my speech.
My wife had pulled off the deep cover of
to box with some exertion, and there, snug
r packed together, staring us in the face,
rere the missing bank notes.
Nellie and I stood dumb with dismay,
yoking irat at the box and then at each
ther.
"Oh, John I poor dear, innocent Snaie I"
ras her first exclamation.
"What witchery is this I" I responded;
'how under the sun did that money ever
et there I"
"John. dear, how unjust we have beenl"
")on't make me think any more ieanly
f myself, " said I. "I could sell Jolla Car
igani, money and all, for sixpence."
'John, what could silo have thoughlt of us?
"Suppose you go and ask her, dear ?"
"I will ; I'll go righlt there, John ; I
rou1ln't have tis weight on my1 conlscience
n hour longer for more thlan twice that
liserable money."
Let uts give the conicision in Nellie's
!ordsI:
"I went to thle house-you've no ideca
rhat a beautiful little palace of a place it
i, .John, and asked thle maid for Mirs. Lons
al10. Tile girl shlowed me into such a per
ct drawing room I-blue furniture, dlear;
11I have lue the next year--and I sat thlere
emiblinig like the culprit I felt~ myself.
Vhen I hleard footsteps my strengthl quite
eserted me, .but I clinchled my hlandR and
it up straight. Presently Susie camne in."
"Miy clear cousin. I" she exclaimed in her
ft musical voice-"'thlen you found tile
ioneyl"
Imagine miy consternlation I Not a word
ouldi I say, I wvas so shockedt to thlink she0
now.
" 'Don't look so (distressed,' silo saidl gent
,: 'don't feel troubled about it. It wasa
uite natural-perhlaps. Mlistakes will hlap
en in tile best-regulated families,' shie ad(
ed1, smiling."
"And you really knew ablout it ?"
"'Yes, I overhleard you on1ce, withlout
icaming to, but I was too proud to notice it
ile least; I only began planning ho0w I
liould get away and try to keep tile know
edge from Harry.' "
"What you never told hitm "
" 'Never ; whly shlold I? I only led
im to thmnk you were not agreeable to 11e
-forgive me, but ho0w could I hlelp it,
miarting under such an indignity. But you
a$'e not said whlethler you found tile money.
"Y i we hlave, and cousin Susie, you are
n angel," I said.
" 'Very far froin It,' said Susie, smiling.
I hatv~e often tried to excuse you to myself,
or circumstances wore certainly against me1
articularly wizen I spent. po lavishly. I
Quld netexplaln the reason then ; I1 can
ow. My hlalf-brpther forged papa's name
or a few. thousand dollarS, years ago. My
ather, for my sake, and the honor of tile
amily, let him go clear with his ill-gained
Ooty,
" 'Some months ago, he learning that pa
a was dead, refunded -me the money by
astalments; pledging me to secrecy, as 11e
ld not wish it known even that ho was in
xlstence. So I kept thle secret, because I
romised him I would. One week ago I
eceived news of his depth.' "
"And so" cohehltded iny wife, "I asked.
or forgiveness for our unjust stispilinS,
id I.--..tlyou, John phe ts an angel,"
I ba gmo doqbL of I~'Iutf wd d that
~~t'n ~opb
Bljnh on Managing.
lie wah a young man who had seen abou
twenty-three years of turmoil and cheap
watermelons, and lie entered the parlor in a
timid, hesitating way, and looked all around
to umake sure that a third party was not
present: ,
"Can I speak to you in confidence ?" he
finally inquired.
"You can, sir. What passes between us
will never be known to the villainous pub
lic-not a word of I."
The young man blushed, hitched around
on his chair, and finally remarked that he
thought about getting married.
"Perfectly proper-so do 1," was the en
couraging reply.
"The girl loves ine and would marry ine
to-morrow," continued the lover, "but her
mother hangs off."
"Just the way with 'em," growled B3ijah
--"wants lier daughter to marry a golanda,
I spose."
" I'm getting ten dollars a week and stea
dy work, but her mother says we can't get
along on that. Sarah and I hate figured,
and we see how we could live like bond
holders and save money, but the ok( lady
is obstinate and says we shan't marry for
fIve years to come."
"hie hard-hearted old tarantula----slie
must be brought to her senses I Young
man, have youi any figures with you?"
The lover produced from his wallet a
paper headed : "What it vili cost Sarah
ind ine to live for one week," and pased
it over to the old janitor. It read as fol
lows;
T'en pounds flour............... $...$ 40
D)ne pound butter ................. 16
rhree pounds meat................ 30
l'wo pounds sugar ................ 18
Pour ounces coffee................. 10
rwo ounces tea................... 20
Potatoes.. ...................... 8
House rent....................... 1 5()
[ncidentals.............. ... h0
$342
"rhat's a liberal estimate," remarked
Ahe lover, as Bijah conned the figures.
"My salary is $10 per week, and you see
we could save over $6 and live yet extra
vagantly.''
"So you could-so you could. Six dol
lars a week for fifty-two weels or a year
makes $312 per year. You can figure on
living forty years. That would make $12,
180. Why, that gi-l's mother must be a
regular absconder. If the girl doesn't mar
ry you she deliberately throws away a for
une of over $12,000, Well, Well, people
ire coming to a pretty pass I"
"And what shall I do ?" sighed the
roung man.
"Boy ! I was once placed in this same
ituation," replied the old man, as he
ooked out of the window at the waving
iollyhocks. "I was getting a salary of
ll 1 a week, cash down, when the bell
itruck 6 on Saturday. I loved a girl, and
we could figure on living like royalty and
saving up $7 a week. Ier mother wanted
ier to marry an Italian count, who was
vottli a gold watch, a race horse, and rs
itore full of second-hand furniture. Tea f
mnd entreaties, and threats, and presents o
)oxes of snuff, and spectacles and French.
iceled shoes would not soften her heartd
)ne night-ah I how well I remember itt
ihe not only turned me out doors, but hi.
ne in the back with a flat-iron as I went
ilxcuse my emotions, young man, but I re
nember how that chunk of iron thiunbed
ny ribs and laid the foundation for this
lyspepsia."
There was a painful silnce and the old
man continued:
"But the girl loved me. We eloped to
[ndiana on horseback, were married, and in
rour weeks the old lady took tea with me,
ite four pieces of pie, and called me the
i)est husband in the State of Ohio.
"And do you advise us to elope ?" was
the eager query.
"I never advise," was the solemn reply.
"Well, if. we ain't married in less'n three
lays then I don't dleserve her I"
"Ym"was the reply Bijahi made.
"Yes, and we'll be0 hapy," said the
over as lie went oait.
Bijah looked fixedly at the glaring glass
ayes in the head of the India-rubber cat,
med mlusedi "Love Is a big thing, and old
'olks mnusn't forgit It. If I had seventeen
marters I'd never crook a finger, even if all
riarriedl astronamers.
Whimsical Funeora~In.
A crotchety old Yorkshiremian about half
i century ago left directions that the (lay of
uls burial should be0 iisherced in with a great
;blic breakfast in tihe town where lhe
night die; that the coflln, slung upon tow
als knotted together, should be borne along
.y relays of men, and "bumped" three
Aimes upon a particular heap of stones; that
hie "'Lamentation of a Sinner" should then
be0 suing; aud that every imn, woman, and
hlld who entered the church-yard with or
ufter the procession should receive a dole of
sixpenice. Never, we may fairly believe,
wvas that particular church-yard before -or
since so plentifully'filled with living beings;
u urners only in thIs sense, that they longed
ror a succession of men who would-'order
~heIr funerals in similar fashion. One old
ady,' an inveterate snuff-taker, left a will
nu which the bequest~s were mainly depend
mut on the observance of certain rules con
'iceted with her favorite excitant. Snuff
wvas to be thrown into the coffin before the
snuff-taking testatrix was "screwed down;",
muff to ho strewn on the threshold -before
hle funeral cortege passed out; the coffin to
de borne by the, six nlost determined snuff
akers in the parish; slxol maids as pall
bearers, with well-filled snuff-boxes In their
liands; snuff to be strewn on the ground at
ivery twenty yards in advance of the. cof
In; and the officiatIng clergyman's large
retaining fee to be in sonic way proportion..
ite to the quantity of snuff lie took during
dhe ceremonial.
.An eccentric Nottingham man known as
Ned Daiwsots was strong in his TIorylenm as
In hise eccentricity. He caused his- coffin
to be made during his lIfetime, and painted
true bluie (the Tory bolors). Ho used-it as
a cupboard for twenty yeats; but onuce each
year, on the anniv.rsary of his birthday, he.
bron ltit into requisition In a still :inorv
singuar man er. He dressed in his best
clotes, and lydown in hiis coffin to see
that It waa. all right in dImensions; then
eng, th4 6oila was filled wsth goodly
van~ and carried on the shoulders of his
alsooul es, hme himnself following 6.s chief
qrltwith a large pitcher of. ale in his
had iand so theo procession inado tue of
oof the rooms and- p d6tis
eni s,~ may be readily liisedI,
IEIMIIIO ingenof the het oft M
N i she t6 n centutv 'one a tatni
in the East India Company's service, was
burled in a style singular enough, though
not outrageously extravagant. Ie built
himself a house hi eccentric fashion at
Missenden, in Buckinghamshire, and made
anticipatory arrangements for his funeral,
certainly marked by no great reverence for
established usages. "I will have nothing
to do with the church or the church-yard;
bury ine in my own wood on the hill, and
my sword with me, and I'll defy all the
evil spirits in existence to injure me."
Ilis remains were deposited according to
his will. A kind of dwarf pyramid of
flints and brick-work was constructed,
about eleven feet sqnare by fifteen feet
high, with a small Gothic window on the
North side and another on the South. Be
ing partly overgrown with Ivy, and In a
thick plantation on the top of a hill, it Is
about as far removed fron the eye of a
passing stranger as a monument can well
be. The cotili is placed upright in the
tomb, and the captain's sword on the top
of it. One of his descendants, some years
afterward, wishing to consult public sent i
me at t little more closely, had the collin
quietly removed from the pyraid and in
terred in the parish church-yard.
The 11ev. Langton Freeman, who was
rector of Bilton, iu Warwickshire, alxt a
century ago, did lia best to obtain for his
own funeral a very detailed attention to
his own wishes by certain clauses in hi
will. "Four or five days after my decease.
and until my body grows offensive, I would
not be removed out of the bed or place I
may (lie In. And then I would be carried
in the Saie bed, decently and privately, to
the summer-house now erected in the gar
den belonging to the dwelling-house where
I now inhabit, and to be laid in the same
bed there, with all (lie appurtenances there
to belonging; and to be wrapped up in a
strong double winding-sheet, and to be Iin
all other respects interred as near as may be
to the description we read In Holy Scrip
tvre of our Saviour's burial. The doors
and windows to be locked and bolted, and
to be kept as near in the same manner and
state as thvty shall be in at the time of my
disease. And I desire that the building or
summer-house shall be planted around with
evergreen plants, and fenced off with iron
or oak palings, and painted of a dark blue
color. And for the due performance of this
in mannor aforesaid, and for keeping the
building ever the same, with the evergreen
plants and the palings in proper and decent
repair, I give to my nephew, Thomas Free
man, the manor of Whitton," etc. Thie
wishes of the testator were duly carried into
effect. When two or three generations.
however, had passed away, and the tomb
was well-nigh forgotten, an entry was ef
fected by making a hole through the roof,
and there the body of the old rector was
'found nearly dried up. Of course there is
no entry of so very unclerical a burial in
the parish register, for his successor in the
pariah could not have signed it if lie would.
Anecdotes or Prince Napoleon.
The father of theyoung prince Napoleon,
though he loved the boy very dearly, rarely
petted him save In public. One day the
boy, then perhaps five years old, was cry
ing with the toothache. The Emperor
scolding him, saying that time future Em
peror of France should be above all such
weakness. "But It hurts me awfully,
papa," replied the boy. "No matter,"
sternly rejoined the hero of Sedan; "stop
up your ears with your fingers, and you
will not feel the pain." The -bay glanced
at him in amazement, but followed lils
father's advice, and ten nlmiites litter an
nounced that the pain was over.
liki and ahniable as lie was, the prince
occasionally yielded to temper when hils
playmates, the sons of Dr. Conneati and
Gens. Fleury and Epinasse, webe not ready
to obey his whims. - "I min a Napoleon,"
lie said one day to young Espinasse, who
had rofused to race with him; "woe to
im who wvill not obey." His father over
heard him, and the boy was condemned to
bread and water for twventy-four hours.
The young prince, when a little boy, could
not be Induced to mount a poiiy unitil lie
had been threatened with the severest pun
ishmuent, so much did(1 he fear a tumble.
Afterward lie became a fine horseman.
Young Louis was frequently requested
by his tutor1 Gon. Froissard, to be prudent.
"A prince,' he was told, "should never
conmmit himnself oiie way or the other." A
short while aifter lie had been reminded of
this duty, the soni of Geni. Fleury asked
hu if lie was hungry. "I would not like
to express any opinion on the subject,"
young Louis gravely replied.
One day, at the Paris Exhiibitioni of 1867,
the Emperor aiid family happened to pass
through the outside gallery of the Prusesiaii
department, where time immense Krupp
gun was exhibited. It weIghed 3,000
tons, and was mounted on a massive gun
carriage about eIghteen feet in height.
The Emperor was obliged to pass under it,
and cast a stealthy glance at the monster
without ralshmig lis head. The Prince Im
perial, with boylike inconsistence, sought
to attract his father's attention to the gun
by pulling the skIrt of lisa frock coat. The
Emiperor gave him a jerk, andl the party
moved along. But the boy was iiot satls
fled, and in a subdued tone, almost timid
ly, asked: "Whir have you not got a big
ger one, papa?' "I[ do not wvant war,
child," the Emperor replied alond. Ap
p~lause greeted lia words, but perhaps those
of the boy were worthier of consideration.
flow Interest Eate.
One of the causes of bankruptcy is that
so few persons properly estimate thme differ
ence between a high and low rate of Inter
est, and therefore often borroi money at a
ruinous rate that no legitimate business can
stand. Very few have figured on the dif
ference between six and eight per cent.
One dollar loaned for one hundred years at
sIx per cent. with thme interest collected an
nually and added to the principal, will
amount to $840. At eight per cent. it
amounts to $2,208, or necarly seven times
as much. At three per cent, the usual rate
of interest in England, amounts to $10.25;
whereas at ten per cent, which has been a
very common rate in the United States it is
$18,809, or about seven hufndred times as
miuch. At twelve per cent. it aumounts to
$81,075, or more than fodr thousand'times
as much. At eighteen per cent. it amnount#
to $15,145,007. At twenty-fou per cent.
(which we sonmeimes' hear2 (k df) i$
reaches the enormotts sn'm of 2581,,79,
404.- One hundred dollarA borW lt sx
per cent. with the intoegt'ao aed An
nual, will atmogtnt to $1,849 $
while the satWi $100 borrwt
beak afn $4 OO11
dedav r i #
A Ride on a Safety-Valve.
.Jimmy Carr was too old to take up
arms when the war began in 1801, but
he did the next best thing he went into
the navy, enlisting as assistant En
gineer on the steamer Queen of the
West, a freight boat which had been
bought by the Government and altered
into a 'rani' in Cincinnati. The vessel
which was under command of Captain.
Elliott, was ordered South and it was
at the battle of Memphis that Jimmy
Carr met with the particular adven
ture, which made him a hero in as pe
culiar a imanier as ever hero gained
the title. "It was on the 0th of June,''
said Jiitumy, "that Memphis was taken.
I reimniber it well, for it was a hot
day, and I was in a hot place too I can
tell. The fleet was laying five miles
above Memphis, and the Queen was a
volunteer that morning. Early in the
day we got orders to move down toward
the rebel batteries, but had no sooner
got within range than the "Johnnies"
opened fire oi us. Our captain called
on Curti. tile first engineer, to let loose
and Ie (lid, and we were soon steaming
(town the river. "We weren't long
under way until we had one hundred
and fifty pounds of stenin on, and still
rising. Curtis detailed me to look af
ter the boilers-we had four which
were on deck-and I went off to ily
post." Th1e first thing I notlced wias
that the safety-valve wasn't weighed
heavy enough for the extra pressure,
and the steam escaped. I couldn't see
anything lying around to weigh it down
with but a large lumip of coal. I lifted
that on to the lever, but it was no use,
us it was tumbled off in a minute or
two. By this time we must have had
fully two hundred pounds of steam on,
and on looking out I saw the rebel
gunboat, the General Lovell, steaming
up and tiring at us. We had no guis
aboard and only eleven sharpshooters,
and tie shot was flying around us
pretty lively, I knew it was the ea'p
tain's intention to try to sink the
[Lovell, and I saw that it would never
(o to allow the steam to escape as it was
doing. I had to think quick-there
was nothing near that I could weight
dawn the valve with, but I was bound
not to be beat and just got astelde of the
lever myself and sat down on it. It
was pretty hot, but [ stuck it out. .1
looked out and the Lovell was only a
couple of hundred yards off. She
stopped to round-to, but the Queen was
too quick for her, and with a ruqh, we
were into her, just astern of the wheel
and almost was clean through her. .1
wis so exclted that I never took my
eyes off her when we were coming up,
and just bore my weight down on the
lever, never thinking to hold on to any
tiling. When we sttuok, the shock
was so terrible it just knocked me head
aind heela over the boilers. Curtis was
watching me, and thought I was killed
and halloed out: "There goes poor
Jimmy;" but I wasn't gone. I was
stunned for a minute, but Jumped up
and climbed over the boilers and strad
ded the lever again, this time taking
a good hold. Thle Lovell sank in
about five minutes, but we had hardly
time to get clear of her before another
rebel craft, the Beauregard, steamed
up toward us. We treated her the
same-way as we treatedh the Lovell, but
this time I kept my seat and clutig oil
for dear life, and the shock didn't
knock me off. $oon after the Queen,
having nothing more to do, drew out,
from the light and1( 1 got diown from
my pierchl. I felt a little sore, and had
a few burnis-for it was a hot place I
was in-but that was all the worse I
was for thle adventure.'
Adroit, Thieves In Parlq.
An adiroit band of thieves have been
"workhng" Paris with the deaf '*raek
et." An old gentleman arrived at a
wino shop at the hour when it was
miost crowded, and gave an order.
When his liquor was brought to him h le
cried out in harsh tones so of ten notleed
among the deaf that he had not been
given what lhe had asked for ; then hay
ing thus secured the attention of ,the
guests proceeded to make inquiries
about an Imaginary resident in. the
neighborhood. H~e shouted, and the
waiter had to bellow in reply, and as
the deaf man made the most ludierous
mistakes in attempting to catch his
meaning everybody laughed, and the
merry customers guyed the poor old
man to their hearts' c'ontent till he got
angry and departed. Meanwhile hi
accomplices had broken into the upper
stories of the wine-shop and rifled them
during the confusion. Over fifty rob
beries or this kind had beeni committed
when M. Jacob the famous head of the
detective service, pounced on the gang.
He had seen three men slip intoa door
way at dusk While a foui'th entered the
wine-shop and followed the latter, gly
ing orders to the other officers to secure
the threeaecomiplices.' Signing toapd
licema'n to accompany him, Jacob en
tered the shop, and jute as the man
'with his hand fghis ean Was bawling,
"Louder-I'm deaf! eIdhoAtnarked, in
an ordinary tone of voiepi. "This ogig
cor.'ll. AsQert you to the police-seg
geon." The .deaf, nian .drew a 1 ki~fe
andattempted to dash it but Jspob
knocked him downe with his life pro
serv'er imd handcuffed i ti, l 4r
Ia IPlOYe, tQ the~W ~s~
FOOD FOR THOUGHTj
What is the best governmspt? That
which teaches us to govern ourselves,
To inlure another'is to- teach him to
in)ure us again, and even an ant can
sting and a fly trouble your patience.
You might, no doubt, cominune with
much wiser persons than yo4rself, but
with none more profitably.
Temper is so good a thing 'that we
should never lose It and always com
mand it.
The beauty of the face is an enviable
thing, but the beauty of the hiat lasta
longer.
Some hearts, like evening primroses,
open most beautifully in the' shadows
of life.
Let a man overcome anger with love,
evil by good, the greedy by liberality;
the liar by truth.
Minds of only moderate calibre or
dinarIly condemn everything -that la
beyond their range.
lie who takes care of the utilverse
has arranged all things for the safety
and good of 'the whole. . I
Without the virtue of humility one
can neither be honest In poverty nor
contented in abundance.
Many a man dreads throwing away
lils life at once, who shrinks not from
throwing it away by piecemeal.
If one strives to treat others as lie
would be treated by them, he will not
fail to come near the perfect life.
No publicatiun of a character unilt
for family reading should be allowed
to cross the threshold of the home.
Learning without thought is labor
lost: thought without learning Is peri
lotus.
What men want Is not talent, it is
purpose; in other words, not the pow.
er to achlove, but the will to labor.
There comes a time when every man
wonders why he is such a lamentable
railure.
- -The brightest thing we have notie
ed going around lately is a highly pol.
ished circular saw.
Never run down a clock for being too
!;low or too fast. Let it alone and it
will run down Itself.
At all times confidence and truth are
better revontives of jealousy than con
oealment.
They who least shrink at the storms
nf fortune are always -most virtuous
and victorious in the end.
We would gain more if we left our
selves to appear such as we are, than by
attempting to appear what we are not.
Friends are as compaions on a jour
noy, who ought to aid each other to
persevere in the road to a happier life.
It would be well if we had less medi
nie and more cures; less cant and
more piety; less law and more Justice.
Make the home the happiest and
Dleasantest place for your children,
ioud you will never regtet the time and
trouble it cost you.
lie is happy whose circumstances
muit his temper; but he is more excol
lent who can suit his temper to any
)ircumstances.
Is it right to give a Christian burial
;o one whose whole life and influence
iave been expended in opposhig relig
lon and its ordinances?
While moral sewers do exist and
while humanity remains what it is,
will exist, It is a question whether
,hese sewers should be uncovered.
Human opinion has so maij shad. a
hat it is rare to find two pople who
igree. But two people will agree won
lorfully If they will but let a third
iink for both.
We may liitate the Deity in all at
Gributes, but mercy is the only one in
which we can pretend to equal him.
W~ecannot indeedi give like God; but
surely we may forgive lIke him.
A thankful spirit has always fresh
natter for thankfulness To praise
3Od1 for the past is the sure way to se
nure mercies f'or the futi~re. Prayer
mdu praise live or die togethaer.,
The more married men you have the
fewer~ crimes'there will be. Marriage
remnders a man more virtuous and more
wise, Tihe fi~ther of a famnily is not
wviling to blush before his ohi ren.
Religious principles inculcated in a.
,hild'g heart are like g'olden nails
which times drives in faster,'and no
philosophleal claw can comtpletely
.iraw out.
Nobody has a right to put another
inder sugh~ a difficulty that lie must
ither hurt the person by telling the
~ruthm, or hurt himselfbytlng ha
as not true.bytligwa
Those' who make consoeece of speak
nig the truth, generally itosper in the
world; anad none -ate inore" visibly
)lasted than, those who make no con
icience of a lie.
The Providence which watches over
~he afFairs of' men works cpt of their
niistakes, at times, a healthier issue
~hah could have been accomplished by
~heir wisest forethought.
The wish often falls warm upona my
eart that I may, learn nothing here
hat I1 cannot continue in the other
world ; that I may do nothing here but
leeds that will bear fruit In heaven.
Suceh is. life? To day we tread thme
marrow way; to-mnorrow cannot say
we've done .our duty; for, giving all
nmr leisuae to maudilin reirth and
pleasure, we seek for 'worldly beauty
mod earthly treasure.
Life is made up, not of gtekM I4ro
icees or duties, but -oft little things It
we..ich smiles and kindness and ut411
~bhgations giverf habitually, are what
win and preserve the heatiand Aecuire
ols el wiik k toh6bb lastsioeti
souk1 no but oply taske.~nnli.
toruethi
iwishOed ~rod~e
r~